May You Find Your Pot o' Gold

A bearded man small in stature seen living in these hills spending his time busily making shoes, was seen hiding gold coins over this hill and the end of the rainbow.

Ah, so beautiful.

Each time he was approached the little man would vanish, as if into thin air. Many folks in these parts tried to find his gold, but each time they would venture into the hills to find the treasure, the rainbow would move.

Sometimes so far away, they would go to great lengths in search of the Pot 'O Gold.  For centuries the towns people of this regeion have tried to find the treasure that was hidden so deftly by the little man known as "Leprechaun".

Happy St. Patrick's Day Everyone!

Carts - One of the Dirtiest Places in the Store

A follow-up to The Neighbor.

Before choosing a cart, I scanned the store entrance-way for disinfectant wipes. The four of us were together and whoever pushed the basket would have to clean off any microorganisms before touching the handle. If I reminded the girls to get the wipes beforehand we could avoid my husband saying, “Wait don’t touch that, wipe it first.”

Filthy Grocery Carts

David routinely takes care of sanitizing the cart on shopping trips and rightly so. Did you know that 72% of grocery carts have fecal bacteria on them? Eeew! I’m getting a vision of teething babies slobbering all over the cart handle. Hope their mommies make a habit of sanitizing it.

We noticed that Wal-Mart was out of disinfectant wipes - again. A woman standing near the entrance also looking for them, absolutely refused to take a basket until she got some Sani-Wipes to clean it. Ah, a gal we could identify with.

Bacteria

Not wanting to wait for an employee to refresh the supply, David and I concurred that we only had a couple of items to get - white clown make-up for the costume party and a bag of rice - and that we didn’t need a cart for that.

After picking up the rice and determining that the only costume make-up Wal-Mart had was for face painting, my Wal-mart phobia kicked in. I announced that I was leaving the store to get some air. I handed the bag of Uncle Ben’s and a ten dollar bill to the girls. I asked them to check out and meet their father and me by the truck.

Walking past the check-outs and nearing the exit of the store, my eyes met with a woman who appeared to be waiting for something. It was the lady who wouldn’t touch the cart handle without it being cleaned first. We gave a knowing smile to one another.

David and I left the store. I wonder how long that woman had to wait for Sani-Wipes?
I don't know about you, but it's going to be tough not to think about feces the next time I reach for a cart.

Till next time,

Marlene

 

Mardi Gras in Montana?

The moment I walked into the art museum I had a hunch it would be a tough competition. Up to then, I thought we had it in the bag.

Hardly anyone was there except for the hosts and caterers. A masked woman greeted us and also handed us some Mardi Gras beads. As I placed them around my neck, I felt like I had landed in Hawaii and Don Ho had given me a lei to help me get into the mood of the party.

I glanced around the rooms of framed art. A woman in a corner at a wine station waited for guests to arrive in order to start selling vino. In another room, a costumed face-painter sat at a table waiting for parents with kiddos to come.

After being told where the food and spirits were and how much they cost, we milled around the upstairs and downstairs of the museum looking at paintings and discussing the artists work.

As we did, more party-goers began to arrive. Dracula and his bride entered and also Spiderman. No worries, I thought, those are Halloween costumes. When I saw the women with the shiny dresses and elaborate feathered masks walk into the basement, I got discouraged.

Had they gone to a mask making class? Did they have sequined dresses hanging around their closets? I had never been to a Montana affair where the guests attire was anything but supremely laid back. Even wedding guests wear blue jeans! I hadn’t anticipated anyone would wear fancy costumes.

We eventually made it to the back room where the New Orleans style food and Hurricane’s were being sold.

I asked David if he wanted a muffaletta and he gave me that – mmm, I don’t think so – look. Not that he is unfamiliar with muffalettas, he loves them, he just doesn’t trust Montanans to know how to make them. This is where the caterer piped up and held a plate towards me and said something like, “Here, you can try one for free.”

Oh my gosh, I became the food critic from hell as I examined and tasted her sandwich and told her that her muffaletta was not authentic. “Cucumbers do not belong on a muffaletta,” I said. continue reading

Till next time,

Marlene

Fate or Expectation?

Mallory and Eileen take aim

As my daughter looked through childhood memorabilia for a Mardi Gras tiara, she came across a 2004 Colorado newspaper with an article about a 4-H team of shooters who were attending a National Junior Olympic air rifle championship. She brought the article to me saying that little did we know, when we saved the paper, that one day she and her sister would be 4H precision shooters.

Or did we?

One thing I wished for a long time was that my youngest daughters grow up in Montana (we were then living in Louisiana) and that they learn how to shoot, well. That has now come to pass with their request that I butt out with the suggestions, as they now know more about shooting than I. Also, they have demonstrated their proficiency through exceptional performance at a recent shooting sports invitational.

Which brings me to a story I recall about what some may call fate. continue reading

Till next time,

Marlene

The Promise

When I saw a blog article on the Huffington Post by “That Girl”, I was curious. The post was titled St. Jude at 50...and a Nation’s Stamp of Approval.

What else did Marlo Thomas have to say, I wondered.

I remember her father, Danny Thomas, as the Lebanese actor well known for his big nose, who played the dad in one of my favorite childhood TV series “Make Room for Daddy”, and as the founder of St. Jude Children’s Hospital.

I clicked over to read the article.

I learned that on February 16, the United States Postal Service will unveil a commemorative stamp in honor of her famous father. He passed away on February 6, 1991.  This year he would have turned 100 and St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital is celebrating its 50th anniversary.

But the most fascinating part of her story was how her father came to build St. Jude. She tells it like this: continue reading

My Ankh

Hope you all had a pleasant Valentine's Day!


Till next time,

Marlene